Two minds One body
by Aiedeen
Summary: Thinking he was just to find a special heir for himself, Dalanore found far more. Power. Bloodshed. A kingslayer. A tale that surpassed his every dream. R&R please, tell me what you think! Rated T for some suggestive sentences. hehe
1. Chapter 1

I started this a while ago but only recently remembered I had it :) So this chapter is about a year old? Oh well, here you go:

**Two Minds, One Body**

**(Chapter 1)**

Who was he? Was he a she? Was he even human? Nobody knew apart from me, and nobody apart from an old storyteller who is now dead.

Buried in a diamond grave.

Who was this man who wore a black cloth cloak, and boar hide boots?

Well I knew.

And I shall tell you of his story.

Or part of it anyway.

He was blessed, or cursed if one thought about it, with a great power. He was gifted in the arcane, in the spiritualistic and in the ability to speak to others with his mind.

But the blessing, or curse, was the gift of another mind. A mind that shared his body, his flesh and his bone, but thought and felt for itself.

Though his body was human, it was shared by the minds of a man, and a dragon.

This dragon was old, older than all sentient beings of Alagaësia itself.

Its shining emerald body died a thousand, thousand years ago.

Its spirit wasn't to die though, for it was the first to be created. It was knowledge and intellect incarnated. It couldn't die, not wouldn't, couldn't. It was to pass itself from sentient being to sentient being.

And now it shared the body of Dalanore. For Dalanore was a normal man like you or me before the dragon came. He was of a line of humans that had borne the dragon for three hundred years.

He was just the next in the line of bearers.

Dalanore was twenty five years old. Living alone, alone as he could be for he had the dragon spirit for company, in Dras-Leona. His house was modestly decorated and middle sized. It was wooden, two stories high and leaned over the street. There were five rooms, the study, the bedroom, the entrance hall, the kitchen and the workshop/storeroom. The garden was a small, twenty paces by twenty paces, square of dirt and piles of hay and weeds, trampled by Orfûna ('honest hoof' in the ancient language), Dalanore's mare. Orfûna was a chestnut coloured steed that bore Dalanore from place to place.

He stood in the garden, humming a soft tune as he expertly brushed Orfûna, making her colour gleam. Caring for Orfûna was one of Dalanore's favourite things, it was simple enough for him to concentrate on other matters and it made the mare clean, full and happy. It also made him happy too.

But enough about the horse.

Dalanore was in Dras-Leona for one reason, to find a successor. A human capable of magic but not under the hold of Galbatorix, preferably a person who didn't know of their abilities. Dras-Leona was ideal because of the mass of people who passed through every year. Every time Dalanore sensed another magic user he would scurry to the scene and observe the mage. So far all of them were under the kings sway, apart from one, but he was with the storyteller, and they were being pursued by most of Dras-Leona's guards.

So he bided his time, honed his skills, Orfûna got fat and lazy from not going any where, etc.

Then came the day.

He was asleep when he first sensed her. His conscious absently left his body in the care of the dragon spirit, and floated off to wander the streets at night, safe from everything and invisible to the other mortals. His spirit wandering around aimlessly and in its sleeping state, floated into the slave warehouses, were slaves were kept. The tightly packed bodies of those with no future lay there murmuring in their fitful sleep. His spirit stopped, hovering over the body of a young woman, barely sixteen years old. It stayed there, plastering her face into Dalanore's subconscious.

He woke with a start. The face lingered in his mind, and then faded from memory.

It was around pre-dawn.

_Welcome back, I believe its time you got out of bed._

_I am, I am,_ thought Dalanore, and then, _where did I go?_

_Away, how am I supposed to know?_

_Because you are older than time and have the greatest magical abilities ever._

_Well what do you expect from some that old hmm? _

He sighed, "Never mind. We're going to the trade district. I have that feeling again."

_Yes of course, and travel by horse._

_I will…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Two Minds, One Body**

**(Chapter 2) **

A thought flowed through her brain, like a whisper on the wind.

_Why me?_ It said, _oh by the lord's grace why me? _

It came from a stout, ginger haired man leaning on a wooden pillar, six or seven paces away.

His clothes, like the others crammed into the store house, were filthy, broken and hanging in tatters off his body. His skin was burnt, by sun and flame, and criss-crossed with white lines, scars of old torture or recent beatings. They were all destined for slavery now, though they had broken no laws. They were ambushed in there village, Germand, north of Cithrí, in Surda; while sleeping soundly in there beds. A quarter of the village was taken by the slavers, and only half survived the harsh journey north to Dras-Leona. All of them were whipped, starved and morally broken, most females abused in perverted ways.

In this bunch of doomed and pitiful people lay a young woman, or girl, of sixteen. Her mind was different from others, able to listen to the thoughts of any living thing. Apart from plants and insects.

Unknown to her, she could have been the most powerful magician in Surda. But she knew not of her powers at all, then.

Her stomach groaned loudly, begging for food that wasn't given to them since mid day, yesterday.

They were all hungry.

They were all bound in iron, shackled to a person or sturdy pillar.

*a few hours pass*

The caw of a crow rung in Dalanore's head, the crow in question eyeing the dirty lane for free pickings. Orfûna snorted, and kept on ploughing through the sea of people and stalls. The lane was alive with the loud cry of traders calling out there best bargains and the general hubbub of a crowd during market day. Three street urchins fought over a scrap of mouldy bread, while a fourth stole it during the commotion.

Dalanore followed his sense until he walked into a richer part of town.

He grunted, this person was probably some rich person who came to Dras-Leona for the extensive amount of merchandise. And rich in this city meant trained, and trained meant Galbatorix's work.

A grimace swept across his face.

_Don't give up on it yet Dalanore, I feel hopeful about this one._

_The last time you felt hopeful about something I ended up with a broken arm._

_But a fat wallet if I recall._

_I couldn't search for a week and a half._

_No one appeared._

_That's not the point._

Growling he resumed his search. Unfortunately he ended up in the slave market, which could mean spending a fair bit of money if the magician was a slave. Orfûna drab appearance, not to mention her rider, was getting too noticeable in this crowd of lords and ladies, so he dismounted and tied her up to iron ring set in the wall.

"Stay here, don't let anyone steal you." He said, and then repeated the message to Orfûna in her mind with the ancient language.

She snorted in response and cast her eyes to the stage were the slaves were being auctioned off like objects.

Pleased, Dalanore walked off down a side street to a warehouse. The person was near, that was clear. A door in the side was ajar and the awful smell of sweat, blood and excrement streamed out of the gap.

Coughing he stepped inside, then left immediately to throw up on the pavement.

What greeted his eyes in the warehouse was a hundred plus bodies of slaves, shackled together, and packed in like sardines. The smell was overwhelming, drifting into most senses.

A repulsive taste on his tongue, a clouding of his eyes, and a stomach churning smell.

His palms went sweaty, but he forced himself to enter again, a thick woollen sleeve covering his nose and mouth. Eyes watering he watched the slaves intently, looking for his magician. All were nearly indistinguishable from the other. Black and brown rags covered them so they were slightly modest but grime and excrement covered any exposed skin.

Stymied Dalanore cast out his mind to find him or her. The emotions from the slavers nearly incapacitated him, for so strong was there despair and self pity, but not one shied away from his presence. One however seemed to observe Dalanore's probe mentally. This person was curled up, a good fifteen or so paces from where he stood. She looked up, hazel eyes looking hopefully to the source.

_Who are you? _Asked Dalanore

_Help me, please._

_Who are you? _He insisted.

_I am of no importance, but please help me. You do not know what we have been through. Help me, help us._

_I am here for you, not the others .I know what you have been through though. Can you escape?_

_No. _she said/thought, raising her mucky shackles.

_I will buy you then._

_What, no, no I wish to be free. Please help me._

_I cannot._

_Why?_

_You are chained and bound and four guards are patrolling this area, taking you will kill you and put me in prison. Buying you is your chance of freedom. I know what you are capable of; I will not let your talents be smothered by a slave's life. Do not fear child._

_What do you want of me!_

_You will know soon, but not now. When are you going to be sold?  
I don't know. Buy me if you wish, but I have no useful talents._ She sighed and sank below her rags.

"You have no idea." Said Dalanore, aloud. Other slaves looked up and moaned and begged for freedom. With a heavy heart Dalanore turned his back on them and left.

Running he sped into the market and spotting Orfûna leaped up and onto the horse's back.

"Giddy up." He said.

Orfûna trotted off into the lane, back to Dalanore's house, whinnying all the way.

An hour later Dalanore was sitting on Orfûna once again, richly dressed to pass unnoticed amidst the lords and ladies, in the slave market with 200 crowns weighing down his pocket, and a coarse blue robe in a bag. He had a constant link with young woman, to make sure she wasn't taken anywhere.

Half an hour later she was dragged on stage, a sorry sight in the sunlight. The slavers, two of them, marched up to her ripped off her rags, leaving her stark naked to the crowd, forced to show her body.

The auctioneer cried out. "A slight girl from the southern areas of Alagaësia, a nice body, if a bit smelly. Might be good in bed," (The male half of the crowd sniggered until most were elbowed in the side by there wives.) "or for light labour or other activities, its only limited by your imagination ladies and gentleman."

"Starting at… 50 crowns."

Dalanore raised his hand to the crowd.

"To the young gentleman on the horse then, 100 crowns anyone?" An old wrinkly man with a covering of silver hair raised his hand, showing a sweaty palm to the auctioneer.

"100 crowns, 150?" Dalanore raised his hand

"200?" A murmur went through the crowd, so much for such a pathetic slave? The old person seemed to think about it, and then slowly started to raise his hand.

Fearing that he might be out bid he invaded the old man's mind. Thoughts flooded into his own, despicable thoughts of what the man would do with the girl made Dalanore grimace but he tightened his grip on the mans hand. The old guy fought Dalanore for control, but the dragon spirit intervened. Power fortified his grip and the old mans hand plummeted to his side.

"200 anyone? 150 crowns going once… going twice… sold to the young man on the horse." The hammer fell and Dalanore dismounted and went to collect his rightful property, and grimaced at the thought. A person should never be property.

He was keenly aware of the gazes of the crowd and didn't like all the attention. The stage steps creaked as he put his weight onto them. Holding out a hand, he motioned for the girl, and the guards complied by hurling her bodily towards him. She wasn't ready and fell at his feet, and the crowd roared with laughter. Dalanore picked her up and dragged her off stage towards Orfûna. Once they had reached the mare he dug into the saddle bags and pulled out the plain coarse robe.

"Here, wear this unless you want to catch the attention of every pervert and sicko in the city." Wordlessly she donned the garment.

"Keep right by my side and don't wander an inch away." Dalanore mounted Orfûna and trotted home, the girl practically glued to his side. He extended a thought, _You are now mine by law, but will have all the freedom of a free person while you stay with me._

_Thank you,_ she thought back.

Both Dalanore and the spirit replied, _it's the least we can do for the next Saul'béris. The next soul keeper._


	3. Chapter 3

**Two minds, One Body**

**(Chapter three)**

Galbatorix sat on his gilded throne and brooded over his rider problem. He had captured the Murtagh boy three weeks back, and had punished him severely for his actions, and then even more when he had heard he had actually helped the new rider. Only now he had stopped limping, at this Galbatorix smiled cruelly. He now had much more information thanks to Murtagh, and that information was only thing that had stopped him from killing the boy. At least now he won't try and escape again, for he was sure he wouldn't like to experience his wrath once more. He had plans for Murtagh, for even though Murtagh was an irritable little boy he was also strong, courageous and clever. A good candidate for a rider, especially as he had learned many words of the ancient language from that other rider, Eragon. 'Yes,' he said aloud, 'tonight we shall see if he truly is a rider.'

*In Dras-Leona*

No more thoughts were exchanged but the girl eyed Dalanore carefully, knowing that he was more than just a rich young man but something more… She wondered what he was, for no one she ever knew could speak with two voices. Two minds even. While she was pondering this Dalanore led her to the to the west part of town where his house resided. Once they had rounded the final corner his house was in sight.

"It's not much, but it's not that bad considering how many crowns I have to save," explained Dalanore.

"It's wonderful" Whispered the girl; it was even bigger than her old home in Germand. Once at the door Dalanore placed both palms on the door and murmured a few words, his eyes shone briefly, then the door creaked forwards. The lock undone without a key.

"Welcome to my home, for the moment. Please do make yourself comfortable in any way you like. As long as you are under this roof, I will treat you as I would an honoured guest." His reply was a shocked looking girl, rooted to the spot with her mouth hanging open. The girl thought to herself, _well I wasn't very poor at Germand but I was hardly rich. This is… this is as good as a palace in my opinion. _Dalanore smiled at her, the posture was quite funny, he thought. "And what am I going to call you, unless you want to be called girl for the rest of your life." She glanced at Dalanore, then she paused for a moment.

"Alice, call me Alice."

"Well, come on in, you've been standing there for nearly five minutes."

Alice took one step, then another, and then a third. Then she ran screaming at Dalanore, tears streaming form her eyes, and hugged him with all her might. Dalanore wasn't expecting it and fell flat on the floor with Alice on top, still holding onto him for what seemed dear life.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she whispered repeatedly. "I've been through hell and back and only expected to see a cell or a pervert's bed at the end of it all, but you saved me. You offer me a home better than the one I used to have. You showed me kindness I haven't seen in many a month. You _saved_ me, saved my life…" All this was said while she was pinning Dalanore to the ground.

"Um, well you're welcome, I guess." He stuttered back.

_It seems you have quite the admirer Dalanore._

_Well it does seem that way. I wonder when she will get off me?_

They stayed like that for nearly 5 more minutes until Dalanore muttered,

"Erm, you can get off me now." And he gave a slight shove, but she didn't move. Then he noticed that she was fast asleep, so he hauled both of them up and carried her back into his bed, the only bed in the house, and proceeded to make some lunch, since he was sure it had been many days since she had an adequate meal.

_Poor creature, she must have been through so much. _Thought the dragon

_Aye_


End file.
